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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27797401">with these words of mine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceshipweather/pseuds/spaceshipweather'>spaceshipweather</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, ScarletWidow, This is a rewrite!, Wandanat, also im not double revising this shit any mistakes are completely mine, and then she dyes it later on!!!, btw wanda starts off with brown hair, dead pietro maximoff, give this version more kudos than the last or im beating ur ass, i literally have no mercy writing this, jk she's literally in so much pain, ok now read the story!!!, pen pals to lovers, rip but wanda's built different, that rhymed lol, trigger warnings fr, u know how it is :/, wanda's going through it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:20:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,327</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27797401</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceshipweather/pseuds/spaceshipweather</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"My problem isn't that I don't know myself, it's that my mind is constantly changing and I have to readjust to it all over again"<br/>. . .<br/>After not being able to sustain herself even with the help of her therapist, Wanda checks herself into treatment—trying to heal from a past that continues to haunt her. While she's there, Maria Hill proposes the option of having a pen pal. Wanda isn't too keen on the idea, but allows herself to give it a try. As she does so, Wanda discovers some important things about herself along the way.</p><p>***NOTE THAT THIS IS A REWRITTEN VERSION OF IN TIME'S HANDS.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Wanda Maximoff/Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff/Natasha Romanov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>with these words of mine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>trigger warning on this entire book!!!!<br/>this story will deal with topics of physical abuse, sexual abuse, sexual assault, alcoholism, survivors guilt, eating disorders, self harm and suicide.</p><p>please read with caution. i will not be putting warnings before triggering parts, but if i feel a particular chapter is heavy, i will put a warning at the beginning.<br/>note that (most) flashbacks are in italics, some are wanda's thoughts.<br/>• •<br/>here is your warning for this chapter.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wanda chewed the tips of her fingernails anxiously as she waited for her therapy appointment to be over. Both women were well beyond familiar with the routine that had been developed at hand. It'd been six months and hardly anything was different. Each session was (for the most part) the same; quiet, heavy with unspoken trauma, and Wanda Maximoff fiddling with the rings on her fingers — or in today's case: ripping apart the skin around her fingertips until blood stained the ends of her sleeves.</p><p>Wanda would talk about it when she was ready. At least that's what she kept telling herself. Although she didn't think she'd ever <em>really </em>be ready. No one ever was.</p><p>"Do you remember our agreement?" Of course she remembered. She'd been actively trying to forget about the stupid deal since the day it was made. Nonetheless, Wanda nodded, her eyes suddenly fixating on the diplomas stacked atop each other, mounted neatly on the wall behind her therapist.</p><p>
  <em>Dr. Jean Grey, PhD in clinical psychology.</em>
</p><p>Jean set her notes aside, allowing her entire focus to be on Wanda. It was evident the younger woman was already beginning to hate the direction Jean was steering the conversation. Wanda's jaw was clenched tight, her knuckles burned white as she gripped the edge of her chair. Jean noted the pace Wanda's leg was bouncing. She had to be more than careful with how she would be guiding the conversation in order for Wanda to not get up and leave.</p><p>"I think you should consider the facility as a secondhand option." </p><p>Wanda defiantly shook her head, licking her lips before she gave her reply, "No." </p><p>Jean swallowed as she carefully leaned herself forward into Wanda's personal space. "You could really benefit from it, you know? Your symptoms aren't getting any better and you refuse to talk about anything related to what happened, let alone the past experiences you've been through."</p><p>Wanda rolled her eyes, yanking her open arms to rest together in her lap. "Ever think there's a reason?"</p><p>Trapped. Wanda felt trapped.</p><p>But this feeling did not stop her.</p><p>"All I'm asking is for you to consider it," Jean repeated, but Wanda wasn't having it. Tears began to well up in Wanda's eyes. "I can't-"</p><p>"You can, Wanda. I know you can."</p><p>"I'll take it seriously this time, I swear. I've changed, please don't push that on me." The brunette begged, but Jean shook her head. If Wanda had been thinking clearer she would've noticed the doubtful look on the older woman's face.</p><p>"You say you've changed, but the only difference I see between the girl who first walked into my office and the girl who's sitting right in front of me is the fact that your hair is slightly darker and your ends have been trimmed. You wouldn't even answer the questions I had when you initially dyed your hair."</p><p><em>I dyed my hair because I wanted at least one part of me to myself. </em>Wanda wanted to reply, but chewed the inside of her cheek to refrain from doing so. </p><p>"Everything else is the same, Wanda. The only difference between you and I is that I want to see you move on, to grieve in healthier ways, to see you grow into the strong woman I know you to be. You don't. What you're doing right now is surviving, you aren't living and that is what I so <em>desperately</em> want you to do. I want you to experience all the wonderful things that you've had extracted from your life."</p><p>"I'm just as fine as I was when I met you," Wanda denied. Jean bit her lip, "If that's so true then why do you keep showing up every week? You have the option to stop seeing me."</p><p>When Wanda didn't reply, Jean took the silence as an opportunity to continue. "You've shown little to no improvement in the last six months I've been seeing you. It isn't even about my job at this point, Wanda. I care for you, more so than you'd like to admit. I'm the last person you have standing beside you. I wouldn't ask you to consider this option if I didn't think it was in your best interest and I think you know that."</p><p>"I promise I'll do better..." Wanda practically begged.</p><p>"Honey, you're body is even more frail and fragile than it was when you first came into my office. You're always tense and on edge as if something or someone is going to hurt you. I worry every time you come into my office that you're going to pass out and I won't be able to wake you up. You're sick, Wanda. And I'm afraid I'm beginning to lack the abilities you need in order to get well."</p><p>Wanda sank further into her chair knowing the woman in front of her was right. Right now everything in the world felt against her. Her safety net once again felt as if it was being ripped away from beneath her feet.</p><p>Before Wanda could get too lost in her own thoughts, Jean brought her attention back to the present. "You know the state pays for your treatment, right? Everything's covered. That was part of the deal. You were there in court listening to all the agreements."</p><p>Wands visibly flinched at the mention of the court case. While it was a true statement that she was physically there, the same could not be said regarding her mental status. There was a gap in her memory from the time she stepped foot inside the courthouse to the second she left. It was too painful to remember, so she never pushed herself into<em> trying </em>to remember that day. Besides, she saw her rapist's face enough on a nightly basis. Any more and Wanda just might snap.</p><p>"Think about it. You don't have to make up your mind today or even tomorrow, but please, <em>please </em>consider it." Jean stood up and opened her office door, guiding Wanda out of the building.</p><p>She would be Jean's last client of the day. Jean had put heart into that decision. Sometimes Wanda would talk about things non related to her trauma and Jean held on to that information tightly. In those cases, it wasn't unusual for Wanda to ramble on topics 45 minutes into the session. Jean didn't want to have to force her to stop talking because of another clients arrival, so she simply moved Wanda's time until the end of the day, that way Wanda could have all the time in the world if she wanted.</p><p>"I'll see you next week, okay? Call me if anything happens."</p><p>"Yeah. Bye Jean. See you next week." <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Wanda's ride back to her apartment wasn't one she remembered. Her body acted on autopilot until she stepped one foot into her supposed-to-be home. Almost instantly trauma started flashing through her mind. It'd happened so many times before that she felt helpless if she even tried to stop it from happening. Each attempt only seemed to make things worse for her, so eventually she gave up and just let it happen.</p><p>The only time it really annoyed the shit out of her was when she was trying to sleep. Sleep was a foreign concept as she only collected about an hour and a half to three hours a day if she was lucky. Wanda had been prescribed numerous amounts of sleeping pills before, but that only led to an accidental overdose just two weeks after she'd been given them. But looking back Wanda knew the overdose wasn't accidental at all. It wasn't a mistake when she downed the entire bottle, she acted with a purpose that night.</p><p>Wanda sighed, tossing her keys on the counter top of her kitchen. She stripped herself of her clothes, leaving her in nothing but a white tank top and a lacey pair of underwear, before plopping down on the couch. A blanket was soon wrapped around her body to keep the malnourished woman warm.</p><p>The sound of a jingle bell and a soft meow could be heard from down Wanda's apartment hallway. Her cat rushed to snuggle between Wanda and her arms.</p><p>"Whatcha doin, Koda?" Wanda giggled, scratching the cat behind his ears. He licked his paw and curled himself into a ball. Her cat would be enough for now to last her until she began dozing odd. It was moments like these where Wanda felt okay, at peace, <em>almost</em>.</p><p>But nothing good ever lasted in Wanda Maximoff's life. She should know that by now.</p><p>This was usually how most of Wanda's days would end; her phone left uncharged with a cat curled at her side as she stared into oblivion. Occasionally she'd lay and watch some stupid reality tv show, but the majority of the time she would nap and wake up in a heavy sweat. Today was no different than the rest. She'd wake up alone with no one to call or talk to.</p><p>Wanda never really had anyone before the assault happened. The one person who promised he'd never leave was Pietro, her brother. He committed suicide a few years back. If knowing he was dead wasn't painful enough for her, she had to be the one to walk in on him with a belt around his neck, indigo blue bruises covering his throat. It took her over an hour to dial 911.</p><p>Dealing with the aftermath of her rape alone didn't help Wanda's case. She no longer had Pietro and the woman that tried stopping the assault was shot in the face. At least if she were alive, Wanda would have had her.</p><p>Wanda had no idea who the woman was, it wasn't until she overheard the news broadcasting what happened to her everywhere when she learned the woman's name was Mary Jane. She later learned Mary Jane had a daughter and a soon to be husband.</p><p><em>Had it not been your fault, she would've still been alive.</em> Wanda thought to herself. She pushed her hair into a ponytail, shaking away the thoughts because<em> god</em> she couldn't handle it today. <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>When the sun set, Wanda began to feel the familiar build of anxiety course through her body. She reached out for her pack of cigarettes on her coffee table. With a flick of her thumb she lit the end of the white stick, inhaling sharply as she did. Smoking wasn't her healthiest habit, but it beat burning holes into her skin or rushing to the ER to get stitches on a wound too deep. Those bills were never fun to get in the mail.</p><p>Wanda finished off her cigarette, a difference in feeling nowhere to be found. She could feel her body start to tremble and shake as she curled herself around Koda. Every single technique Wanda had been taught seemed so useless now that she was beginning to feel the things she felt before her last suicide attempt. Flashbacks were always a bitch. Wanda knew that more than anyone else she'd ever met.</p><p>Once again, Wanda felt the man's touch burning on her skin. His fingers squeezed her sides as he forced himself inside of her. Everyone always assumed the worst part of the matter would be the fact that she was raped, plain and simple. It wasn't as straightforward as people liked to believe.</p><p>Some days she could handle the sight of another man who resembled her rapist, other days her post traumatic stress twisted the looks of innocent people and she would publicly vomit on the pavement.</p><p>Tonight, amongst many other nights, Wanda felt completely and utterly helpless against the attack. A quiet sob escaped the opening of her mouth, similar to the one she let out the moment she witnessed another person's murder.</p><p>Wanda tried fighting it. For two hours she laid trembling on her couch. Her eyes were bloodshot and they were beginning to hurt.</p><p>After awhile she began to calm down, but at this point in time she had no idea what was happening. She didn't remember walking into the bathroom, nor did she remember downing a bottle full of Ativan.</p><p>A bitter laugh came from Wanda's mouth when she realized just what she'd done. "What a fucking mistake," she muttered. It wasn't long until the pills began to settle. They weighed heavy in her body and her stomach began to bloat, the water she drank expanding her belly as each second passed by.</p><p>In a sudden burst of rage Wanda smashed her hand against the glass mirror, adding a few minor cuts to the outside of her right hand. She was angry. Angry with everything that led up to this very moment in her life, angry that she didn't have Pietro there to hold her and tell her everything was going to be alright, angry that she was choosing the easier way out because she didn't have the balls enough to face what tortured her the most.</p><p>And god did Wanda hate herself because of it.</p><p>As a kid Wanda believed in a future, she believed she would grow up happy, despite the horrible things that happened to her as a child. There was still hope. But years of abuse and instability morphed her into someone she never imagined she would be</p><p>Nothing seemed to appeal to her anymore. She didn't even have it in her to stay alive for her cat, the one thing that gave her the slightest bit of sanity.</p><p>Thirty minutes later and Wanda began to feel dizzy. The slightest bit of regret could be found buried underneath the false pretense of relief she was feeling. For the most part she felt desensitized to this, entirely emotionless as she sat on the cold, tiled flooring of her bathroom.</p><p>No one was here, and no one would ever be <em>there</em> for her. Not a friend, not her brother, and not even a goddamn neighbor would notice her absence. She felt so small against the world, it made her feel so child-like to have this kind of terror.</p><p>More than anything Wanda needed someone to call. So she stood up and fumbled her way out of the bathroom, one last person coming to mind. <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>She knew it was two something in the morning and she'd already swallowed an unknown amount of pills. Who could possibly tell what she was looking for when she dialed Jean's number? Comfort? A sense that <em>maybe</em> she belonged here, that <em>maybe</em> she just <em>might</em> matter to someone? Wanda didn't know.</p><p>But the next things she heard were three rings and a groggy female voice answer the call.</p><p>"Hello?"</p><p>Wanda bit her lip, sniffling as she tried to push away the pesky thoughts of her being obnoxious. "Jean?" At the sound of Wanda's voice, Jean shot straight up from her bed.</p><p>Wanda never cried, nor did she ever willingly reach out for help. It was alarming to say the least.</p><p>"Wanda? Are you okay?" The younger woman could tell Jean was panicking, but she chose to ignore it, suddenly feeling guilty for even making the call in the first place.</p><p>"I don't know..."</p><p>"Wanda what's going on?" Jean blurted, suddenly rushing to get out of her own bed and on her way to Wanda's apartment. The only issue was that her client lived nearly thirty minutes away.</p><p>Sobs rippled throughout Wanda's body, "I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't-"</p><p>"Wanda!" Jean shouted, unknowingly causing Wanda to flinch. The redhead was met with an earie gap of silence.</p><p>"I need you to tell me what's going on, you called for a reason," She tried to reason. Wanda held back the lump in her throat, wiping away the stray tears as they dripped down her face. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I never should have called. This was a mistake." Jean heard the crack in Wanda's voice before the call was dropped.</p><p>Wanda threw her phone at the wall, surely waking the entire city with the loud thump it made, and fell to the floor. <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Nothing about Wanda's overdose was peaceful. Vomit ejected itself violently from her mouth and onto the floor, staining her shirt and furniture doing so. Her mouth lingered of the taste from her prescription pills mixed with her own stomach acid.  Her face lay slammed against her flooring, bruising on her cheek already starting to form. <br/>
<br/>
It was everything but tranquility and lightness. Muffled groans filled the air and all of a sudden Wanda felt scared. She never liked not knowing what was to come, and now finally greeting her own death, Wanda panicked. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Time fell short when her eyes rolled in the back of her head.  </p><p> </p><p>•  •  •</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Pietro, wait for me!" Wanda breathlessly jogged towards her brother, desperate to catch up with him. He smiled back at her and slowed his pace.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It wasn't long before a smirk replaced his smile, causing Wanda to roll her eyes. "I hate that you're so fast. How do you do it? What's your secret, Piet?" But alas, her brother shrugged and found a ditch near a tree for them to hind out. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The twins had run away yet again. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wanda rest her head in her brother's lap. "Do you think they'll find us?" Pietro sighed, "You worry too much." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"And you don't worry enough." Wanda snapped. Pietro held her tightly. His number one priority was keeping her safe.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I won't let them find us, I promise."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wanda had been hurt again, and despite trying to hide it from Pietro, he found out anyway. She'd hoped she could stick it out just a little while longer since they were so close to aging out of the system, but nothing ever seemed to work out in her favor. Her abuse went on for so long because her abuser knew she'd never say anything, especially when they could easily separate the twins and she would be left alone. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wanda wasn't strong like Pietro. Even though the twins never had enough to eat, Pietro somehow had the muscle mass of a grown man. She, on the other hand, was skinny as could be, making her much weaker than her brother and the rest of the girls in the group homes she stayed in. Wanda had more bone than flesh on her body, easily making her fall victim to predatory men and women that encountered her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Truthfully, the last group home didn't start off so bad. The twins were fed three meals a day, given proper access to things like the internet, public transportation, etc. There were no signs of physical abuse amongst the other teenagers, and there was hardly any bullying or discourse between the children as well. </em>
  <em>It felt like a dream come true, until it wasn't. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Things started to change when the man in charge took a special liking to Wanda. </em>
  <em>He started by leaving special treats for her under her pillow, then taking her out to eat wherever she wanted while Pietro was off somewhere else. She had fun at first, and god did Wanda feel special. Not only was she being shown respect and love from someone other than Pietro for the first time in her life, her place of stay began to feel like home. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But one night ruined it all. The man had taken his star girl out to get a pint of ice cream. She sat in his car, spoonful after spoonful of strawberry ice cream going in her mouth. He waited until she smiled at him, blushing in curiosity, before placing his hand on her thigh and sliding it up her skirt. The spoon clanked on the car floor and her body immediately tensed. The rest of the night was a blur, but she remembers having to cover up hickeys the next morning. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>After that night, things went downhill at  rapid pace. Their perfect place was exposed to them and there was no way out of it now since they'd told their overloaded social worker that things were going well. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rather than being not hit at all, they'd be hit several times a week. It was nothing of the extreme, but knowing that didn't make it hurt any less.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Today would be the end of everything though. Pietro caught the man in his sisters room with his hand over her mouth and his other hand pumping in and out of her lower area. The sight alone caused Pietro to swing at the man, but the tears streaming down Wanda's face was enough to crush his soul. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>When Pietro was done taking hits at the man he quickly grabbed Wanda's hand and yanked a spare set of keys he'd stolen just in case something like this ever happened. They both hopped in one of the trucks and drove as far away as fast as they could.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Which is why they were here now, a ditched truck miles back and on the run, stopping for a break as the night began to fall.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wanda looked up from Pietro's lap, "Do you pinky promise?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Pietro moved away so he could get a better look in her eyes. He held out his pinky finger, ready for  her grasp. It was a very kid-like thing to do, but they both always did it with only the most important promises.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She wrapped your finger around his and waited for him to speak.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I pinky promise." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wanda looked at him once more, knowing he meant what he said. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But Pietro always did. He saved her ass more times than she could count. He never lied or abandoned her. Pietro made it his life to protect his little sister.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>•  •  •</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Wanda was quick to tire when it came to how blinding hospital lights were. </p><p>She blinked, flinching at the direct illumination above her. Her stomach felt like it had been sucker punched about a thousand times. She tried to groan, but was stopped quickly by the feeling of a tube down her throat.</p><p>The familiar sound of Jean's voice rang through her ears, "Hey, you're okay. I'll go get someone, stay still." She watched the woman disappear out of the room and waited patiently as she tried not to freak out about where she was.</p><p>A nurse followed behind Jean with a cup of water in hand. The redhead sat next to Wanda, averting her eyes as the nurse removed the tube.</p><p>"You gave us a big scare." The nurse spoke, a gentle smile on her face as to lighten the mood. "Take a drink, you need it." She adjusted the bed settings, propping Wanda up so she wouldn't choke.</p><p>"I'm just going to ask you a few questions, okay?" Wanda nodded and took another sip from the cup, hoping to ease the burning in the back of her throat.</p><p>"Can you tell me your name and date of birth?"</p><p>She replied.</p><p>"Can you tell me the year, city and state?"</p><p>"Cold springs, New York. As of right now it's 2020." Wanda's throat ached with every movement of her vocal cords.</p><p>"Good. Can you tell me the reason for your admission?"</p><p>"Must've passed out." Wanda denied, earning a loud huff from Jean. Though, it wasn't her fault she didn't want to face the consequences of her actions. </p><p>"How did that happen?" Her reply was only the shrug of the shoulders.</p><p>"If you'll excuse us, please. I just need a moment alone with her." Jean spoke before the nurse could say anything else. The young woman nodded and left the room.</p><p>"Wanda? I need you to look at me." The woman complied, raising her head because she knew now was not the time for games. "What happened?"</p><p>"I don't know-"</p><p>"Oh bullshit. You called me crying right before you tried to kill yourself. And now you expect me to take an 'I don't know' as some sort of reasonable explanation? I'm supposed to keep you safe, Wanda. You're supposed to tell me what's going on. So I'm going to ask you again, What happened?" Jean's voice was stern, leaving no room for her client to lie.</p><p>"I don't know! It happened so fast... I-I was fine at first. I took a nap with Koda, and then I woke up and it was night." Wanda bit the inside of her mouth, trying to prevent herself from remembering too much all at once.</p><p>"It was the flashbacks." She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure before continuing. "I could see it happening all over again and I didn't know what to do. His hands were all over me... She couldn't– <em>She didn't</em>–"</p><p>Her voice was beginning to shake, undealt grief and sadness making themselves known. Jean carried a lot of sympathy for the young woman, but she knew Wanda was out of her hands.</p><p>"I called the treatment center."</p><p>"No, I don't-"</p><p>"You have to go, Wanda. There are no other options. I can't keep you safe, and you need someone who can." </p><p>Wanda visibly depleted. Jean knew how much she didn't want to go, but she <em>needed</em> this.</p><p>"When would they take me?"</p><p>"When you're released. It's about an hour and a half drive from here."</p><p>"Where is it?"</p><p>"Connecticut." Wanda's head fell back on the pillow. She wasn't quite sure how to feel, if she could even feel <em>at all</em>.</p><p>"You know I wouldn't be putting this out on the table if I didn't think it was the best option."</p><p>"Yeah." Wanda adjusted herself so she was no longer facing Jean, "I'll go." She closed her eyes once more and allowed sleep to take over. It was the only thing she could do in the meantime.</p><p>Jean's biggest fear had been cleared. She knew she couldn't <em>make </em>Wanda go, not technically, but she needed her to go for the sake of the love and adoration she had for the younger woman. Now she finally had a chance at life and Jean couldn't be more proud of her beloved client. </p>
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